


Swindled

by SilverRayan



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRayan/pseuds/SilverRayan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swindle didn't want to sell his brothers as spare parts. He was forced to, by an enemy that no one supected. Now he's branded as a traitor, and time is running out, not only to save his own life, but possibly the lives of all the Decepticons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Swindle curled up on his berth doing his best not to cry. He was a Decepticon after all. He wasn't supposed to be so weak. But he was alone and terrified, and had betrayed his brothers in the worst possible way. He had sold them for spare parts to a Filthy little human. Sure, he was a greedy fragger, and he was loyal to no one. Except his brothers. Why then, had he nearly destroyed them? It wasn't his fault. No, really, it wasn't.

His brothers were all he had. At the end of the day credits couldn't comfort him when be needed someone there or watch his back when he was hurt. His brothers had protected him ever since the five of them were younglings who had been cast out into the street. They had raised him, fed him, kept him alive. And though he would never say it out loud Swindle did love them. So why then, had he abandoned them? It was that human's fault. Swindle winced remembering what had happened.

After Defensor had kicked their afts, Swindle found himself as the lone functioning Combaticon. He had lain on the pavement, dazed and wondering what to do next. It took a while, but once his processor stopped spinning, the youngest of the brothers was finally able to recall the he had a human contact in the area. El Presidente ran a large chain of chop shops, among other "business" ventures. He would have the parts needed to patch Vortex, who was the least damaged of the four, back together, and the copter could fix the rest of them.

Pushing himself to his pedes, the swindler had begun the long trek to the flesh bag's closest hideout with the intent to convince the human to hand over the goods, free of charge, of course. He had been completely surprised when a human stepped into his path, seemingly coming from nowhere. Despite being startled Swindle didn't bother to reduce his speed. If the human wasn't smart enough to get out of his way, well that wasn't the Combaticon's problem. The tiny creature wouldn't even dent Swindle. Needless to say, the Decepticon was stunned when the pathetic fleshy pulled out... some sort of weapon and shot him. Electric pain had raced through his circuits, shutting down neural pathways and leaving him completely unable to move and stuck in his alt mode.

The human called himself Zeus, after the king of Gods. He had had a proposition for Swindle. His minions, the minor Gods, had reported to him that several alien robots had been scrapped. Swindle was going to sell El Presidente them as spare parts. Why Zeus didn't want them directly, the youngest Combaticon didn't know. The wannabe God had told him that once he had gotten what he wanted then he would see to it that the four mechs would be returned to the Decepticons. Swindle had refused. All he had to do was wait until his systems reset and be would be able to crush the so called "king". At least, that had been the plan. Then Zeus had played his trump card. The gun he had used to paralyze the mech didn't use bullets or laser fire or any such thing. It had fired a small tag deep into his chassis. The tag would respond to a remote detonator that could be triggered from anywhere in the world. When that happened, the tag would send jolts of electricity through him. At low doses it would simply cause extreme pain and some minor damage to his neural systems. Over time, however, the mild jolts would cause that minor damage to build up and eventually it would kill him. The Constructicons had firm orders not to fix him for any reason, after all, so he wouldn't be able to prevent major damage. The fragging weapon also had more than one setting, and at high doses it would not only cause massive amounts of agony, it would completely paralyze him and eventually kill him. The maximum setting would run through his systems for a full minute, causing massive damage before killing him. Swindle wasn't naive enough to think that this human would give him such a quick death. Having no other options the jeep had agreed.

So now, here he was, twenty four hours later, alone and terrified. He had done as he was ordered by the human, which had displeased Megatron. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to tell his leader that he had been bested by a human, so now everyone thought he was a traitor. Including his brothers. Thankfully, Megatron had ordered Hook to remove the bomb from his head, giving him one less thing to worry about, even if the operation had been extremely painful.

Deciding that moping in his quarters was not helping (and would likely get him a beating if Brawl or Vortex came home and found him in their shared living unit), the young Decepticon left his room, quickly making his way to the launch tower. The Reflectors barely spared him a glance as he input the commands that would raise the tower. Megatron had told the swindler to get out of his sight until further notice, and the best way to do that would be to get off the ship completely. On the way up Swindle tried to think about anything but his current situation. Instead, he thought about the Reflectors. They were creepy those three, but good business partners when they wanted to be. He tried to distract himself with thoughts about business and money and the latest fight that Braw… fraggit! He didn't want to think about them right now. He wanted to get away, to find a way to pull the blasted barb out of his chassis and for everything to go back to normal.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. A burning sensation ripped through his chassis and knocked out his knees, sending his sprawling against the wall. Slag that human! He tried not to scream, biting his denta till they bled. He couldn't let anyone know that this was happening to him. No one could know about the human. He would solve this himself and then squish the stupid fleshy for daring to do this to him! But first, he had to wait for the pain to go away so that he could stand properly. It was a weird coincidence that the moment the lift doors opened, allowing him outside, the burning went away. Firing up his boosters, Swindle fled from the Nemesis. He didn't know where he was going or what his plan was, but he would figure something out. He always did.

He savored the deep, rich wine, sipping it slowly as he watched the video feed. A tan and purple robot emerged from the sea, taking flight as soon as he was stable. Zeus was pleased to see the faint tremors shaking the (relatively, after all, the thing was bigger than he was) frame. The little bastard had crossed the wrong man, and Zeus intended to make him pay. He had studied the aliens for so long now; he knew exactly how to hurt them, physically. But his minor gods had brought him some interesting information recently; the creatures had families. So, he decided, a change of plans was in order. Swindle would die, yes, but he would make sure that the brothers got a front row seat. And then he, a human, who these beasts had thought to be inferior, would prove who was the most powerful of them all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: this chapter is rated M for torture and mild gore. Please do not read if this bothers you.
> 
> p.s: I butched El Presidente's accent. I apologize.

"What do you mean he is not on the ship?" Onslaught's voice was mild. To an outsider it sounded as though he was perfectly calm. His team however, knew that he was absolutely livid. They all were. They had returned to their quarters expecting to find their youngest cowering in his room, but clearly the little coward had fled. Vortex looked forward to hunting his brother down. They still had yet to pay the fragger back for his betrayal.

Reflector looked up at the gestalt, bored.

"Just what we said. He left."

"Bring up the footage. I want to see when he left and where he was going." Something in the commander's tone convinced the camera mechs to do so without argument. The Combaticons watched the recording in silence. They watched as Swindle slinked into the room and raised the tower. Blast Off snorted with disdain at his brother's broken expression. Vortex imagined ways to inflict further punishment on the coward. Onslaught and Brawl said nothing, burning optics trained on the video feed. But what happened next gave them pause. Swindle convulsed, dropping to his knees. There was no audio feed, but they could see from his expression that he was trying not to scream.

"What the frag?" Brawl burst out.

"Ah, the brat's probably just doing it for attention," Vortex said. Doing a slagging good job of faking it too. The interrogator in him said that the pain on Swindle's face was too real to be a gimmick – never mind the fact that there had been no one around to see him – but the 'copter was too angry to listen. Whatever it was didn't last look before the smallest Combaticon shook it off and stood up. He launched into the air and headed east, towards the United States.

"Blast Off, Vortex, go after him. Bring him back in one piece." Vortex frowned at the stipulation. Ah well, Onslaught was going to tear Swindle a new one anyway. He'd get to play with the leftovers. Blast Off just looked irritated.

"Yes sir."

"Sure thing Ons."

"Get going. I want him back here within the joor." The Combaticon Commander watched his mechs until they disappeared into the lift before leaving the tower room. Brawl followed his leader out, wishing he was going hunting too. Unfortunately, they both had shifts and it wouldn't do for Megatron's anger to be turned on them as well.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swindle returned to the battlefield. He didn't know what he was looking for and figured that starting at the beginning would be best. He retraced the battle – where he was, which Protectobots he fought, his brothers' positions – looking for anything that might suggest they were being watched. The insect must have been spying on them. He knew that Swindle was alone and that he had been enroute to acquire the parts needed to bring Vortex online. The human had also developed technology capable of disabling and killing Cybertronians. So who was he?

Despite spending nearly two human hours reviewing the battle, the Combaticon couldn't find any hint as to how Zeus had been keeping track of him. Frustrated, he left and headed towards the site where he was ambushed. Similarly, there was nothing but months old tire tracks. Even the human's footsteps had been removed.

Swindle screamed in frustration. How was this possible? Zeus was just a human! Swindle was one of the best conmechs in the universe. He had been ensnaring and cheating mechanisms since before this miserable little plant had been created! So why was the little insect getting the best of him? He needed to calm down and think clearly. The jeepformer took a couple of deep intakes. He was going to beat this. He was going to… ohfragohfragohfrag!

A wave of excruciating pain ripped through him, stealing his voice and driving him to his knees. All thoughts of revenge fled in favor of trying to alleviate the agony. He slumped to the ground, body curling into a fetal position as his optics flickering dimly. The last thing he saw before stasis took him was a pair of human shoes.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blast Off was furious. His idiot little brother not only was a traitor but a coward as well. And now he was stuck with Vortex – who would not stop muttering threats under his breath – on a mission to retrieve the little ingrate.

"…and then I am going to squeeze and see just how much pressure those tubes can take–"

"Vortex," the shuttle's voice was cold, "stop talking or I am going to remove your rotary assembly and shove it up your tailpipe."

"Ooo, big brother's mad. Whatsa matter, Blasty? Am I pissing you off? Or is Swindle getting to you?" Blast Off growled. 'Onslaught will be angry with me if I kill him.' He thought it might be worth it.

Any further contemplation of coptercide was put on hold as their target came into view. El Presidente's ship. Swindle had wasted no time in selling their parts to this fragger. Perhaps the little insect had provided Swindle with a safe place to hide. He watched with detached amusement as the humans screamed, scrambling for their weapons. Vortex fixed that by strafing the deck, causing the fleshbags to dive for cover. The Combaticons touched down, and shifted to bipedal mode. Vortex's insane grin caused more than a few men to leap off the ship into the churning waters.

"Get me El Presidente. Now." Blast Off fought back a sigh when none of the men moved. "They're all yours Vortex. Make sure you don't get covered in blood. I am not helping you get clean."

"Aw," the helicopter pouted. "Oh well. Can always ask Brawlie to help." The high pitched giggle grated on the shuttle's sensitive audios, but it was effective in spurring the humans into action.

"No, wait!" A human called. "I will get El Presidente for you." He took off running. Moments later a tall man in a green uniform emerged from the depth of the ship. Blast Off supposed that his silver hair and eye patch made him seem intimidating to humans, but he was less than impressed. From the way Vortex smothered a giggle, he could tell his brother thought the same.

"Who are you?" The arrogance in the man's voice was grating, but they would play nice for now.

"Blast Off, and my comrade Vortex. We are looking for an associate of ours. You know Swindle?"

"Ah yes. Is a good customer. Is shame what happened to him."

"What happened?"

"I know not much. Perhaps a deal gone bad. Swindle was very nervous." Blast Off kept his face blank.

"So you have seen him."

"Not recently no. Not since I bought parts from him. Was unlike him. Looking over his shoulder, very skittish. Maybe he crossed the wrong man?" Blast Off doubted it. What could a human do against a Cybertronian.

"But you are still friends with him?" Vortex asked skeptically.

"Yes. Is good partner. You need help finding him, you come to me."

"I want a list of every other human he deals with," the 'copter's tone light, like it was a request. He was disappointed when the arms dealer nodded agreeably.

"I do not know them all, but I will compile a list. Tell Swindle to come see me when you find him. We have a contract to settle." El Presidente quickly wrote out five names that he knew Swindle interacted with on a fairly regular basis. He hoped that his business partner was alive; he was a great arms dealer and the president always benefited richly from working with the mech. He gave the names to the shuttle, who said nothing, while the helicopter grinned creepily. He would be glad to see these two off his ship. He had a business to run after all. The pair departed without a word, and he watched until they were specks in the sky before ordering his men back to work. Those orders wouldn't fill themselves after all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swindle onlined in darkness. His arms were suspended above his head, shackled to the wall he was resting against. He tugged at his bindings, testing them, but they held fast. When he pulled harder they sent a jolt of electricity through his damaged frame. Yelping, the smallest Combaticon decided against struggling. At least until he figured out some way to disable his bonds. He was given no time to work out how to escape however, as the wall opposite to him slid aside, revealing a human. Swindle studied the man, trying to place him. The human was tall, close to seven feet, with onyx hair and eyes. His pale skin was a stark contrast to his coloring, giving him a demonic appearance. Swindle remembered him. He remembered him all too well.

"Zeus! What do you want with me?"

"Swindle, Swindle, Swindle," Zeus cooed, ignoring the question, "what am I going to do with you? You disobeyed me."

"No I didn't! I did what you said! I sold my disassembled brothers to El Presidente!"

"And then you went and put them back together again." To be perfectly honest, the King of Gods would have been rather put out if he hadn't. Then he would have had to find some way to reassemble them. Dead Combaticons weren't part of the plan. Not yet. But Swindle didn't need to know that.

"I had no choice!"

"Of course you did. You wanted to save them. You could have found a way around the bomb, smart mech that you are." Zeus smirked at the surprised look on Swindle's face. "Yes, I know about the bomb. It was intelligent of you not to mention my little gift during the implantation and extraction surgeries. Otherwise things would have gotten…messy. But that is beside the point. What matters, Decepticon, is that you chose to disobey me." Zeus activated the tag, causing several million kilowatts of electricity to tear through the Combaticon. Zeus watched with pleasure as the mechanical form screamed and thrashed, writhing in agony. He cut the power after only a moment, not wanting to fry his toy.

"You messed up Swindle. I had plans, and you ruined them. Had you done your job you could be safe and sound on your little ship, tag free. But now we will have to do things the hard way." Swindle tried to glare at the man, but the tremors wracking his frame and his heaving intakes made it wholly ineffective.

"Oh don't look at me like that. It's your own fault for being so disobedient." The self-proclaimed God turned away from his victim to study the steel table tucked in the corner. More specifically, he studied the array of tools spread across its surface. Deciding on a laser scalpel, he lifted the tool to show his captive. "Since you were so eager to derive my business associates of your brothers' parts I will simply have to replace them with yours. We shall start one piece at a time." The smile on Zeus' face was perhaps the most terrifying thing the conmech had ever seen. "Brace yourself, dear Swindle. This is going to hurt."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vortex and Blast Off stood in their Commander's office. Brawl was off to the side, slumped against a wall as he watched his brothers.

"You failed." Even Vortex knew not to make a smartaft remark when Onslaught's voice was that cold. Blast Off shivered, but met his older brother's optics square on.

"Yes. None of Swindle's associates have seen him recently. Most were willing to talk with the right incentives, but their information was useless."

"And you have no other leads?" Vortex snorted.

"Swindle's good, but not that good. I know all of his usual haunts. The fragger's not dumb, he knows to avoid going to any of those, but he's not smart enough to come up with somewhere fortified on the spot. It takes him ages to develop his little hidey-holes. I should be able to find him within the cycle."

"Get on it. I want him found. Blast Off, you stay for your shift. Brawl, go with Vortex. If you haven't found him by the time I get off I will join you. And boys, bring him back in one piece."

"Yo Onslaught," Rumble's voice came over his office intercom. "Ya got a package. The Coneheads found it sitting on the beach. Come get it if ya want it. I ain't bringin' it to ya." Onslaught frowned. It was probably Swindle's peace offering.

"Brawl will be there in a moment." The tank grumbled, but set off to retrieve the package. He returned a klik later carrying a small box wrapped in brown tape. The word 'Combaticons' was scrawled in Swindle's handwriting across the top. The four mechs noted the shakiness of the letters, but they were more focused on what was inside the package. Opening it, Onslaught fought the urge to recoil.

Fresh energon still dripped from the dark gray hand nestled inside the box.


End file.
